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What does it truly mean to be a mother? And what can Rachel Imeinu teach us about compassion, sacrifice, and the extraordinary power of a single act of kindness? In Thursday morning’s Breakfast & Class, we share a beautiful insight inspired by Chantelle, who had prepared a presentation for a challah bake honoring Rachel Imeinu’s yahrzeit on the eleventh of Cheshvan. She noticed that this is the forty-first day of the Jewish year, corresponding to the gematria of eim, mother. From there, we explore the hidden meaning of three Hebrew letters—mem, nun, and samech—and the remarkable verse in Ashrei: Somech Hashem lechol hanoflim, vezokef lechol hakefufim—Hashem supports those who fall and raises those who are bowed down. What is the difference between holding someone up and helping someone stand tall again? And why does that distinction capture the very essence of Rachel Imeinu? Through three powerful episodes in Rachel’s life, we discover a woman whose compassion changed the destiny of the Jewish people. We revisit the extraordinary moment when Rachel surrendered the secret signs to Leah, sacrificing her own happiness to spare her sister humiliation. We examine Rachel’s heartbreaking cry to Yaakov over her childlessness and the Midrash’s startling question: Is that how one answers someone in distress? Finally, we journey to the Heavenly Throne, where Rachel invokes her sacrifice on behalf of her children being led into exile, moving Hashem to promise their eventual return. Why was Rachel buried along the road rather than alongside the other patriarchs and matriarchs? And how could one quiet act of kindness become the merit that brings hope to an entire nation? Join us for a moving exploration of motherhood, empathy, and the enduring promise of Rachel Imeinu: First we hold someone up. Then we help them believe they can rise again.

We have all heardthe remarkable story of Naḥum Ish Gamzu, the great sage who was sent to theRoman emperor carrying a chest of precious jewels, only to discover thatthieves had replaced the treasure with ordinary dirt. Facing the emperor’s furyand the threat of death, Naḥum responded with his famous words, Gam zu letovah— this too is for the good. Miraculously, the dirt became powerful weapons,saving Naḥum and bringing victory to the emperor. But why dirt? Of all the waysHaShem could have performed this miracle, why choose something so seeminglyworthless? In Wednesday morning’s Breakfast & Class, we revisit thisfamiliar Gemara through an extraordinary insight shared by Rabbi YissocherFrand in the name of the Ostrovtzer Rebbe, revealing a profound connection toAvraham Avinu’s declaration, Ve’anokhi afar va’efer— “I am dust and ashes.”  FromAvraham’s miraculous victory over powerful armies to Rabbi Ḥanina’s fearlessencounter with a sorceress, and the remarkable faith of the Brisker Rav whileescaping Nazi Europe, we explore the extraordinary power of Ein od milvado— there is nothing besides HaShem. What does it really mean to recognize thatour intelligence, strength, accomplishments, and even our next breath are giftsfrom Heaven? And how can we develop genuine faith when life takes unexpectedand sometimes frightening turns? Perhaps the greatest lesson of Naḥum Ish Gamzuis that he declared Gam zu letovahbeforehe knew how the story would end. Join us for aninspiring journey into humility, trust, and the limitless possibilities thatemerge when we recognize the true Source of our strength. After all, if HaShemcan transform a handful of dirt into something extraordinary, imagine what Hecan accomplish through us.

What if someone could tell you your future—would knowing it help you live better today? A surprising encounter at a Laniado Hospital dinner, a family story from India in 1948, and an astrological recording made for my eighteenth birthday open this journey into the less familiar chapters of Avraham’s life. We revisit Teraḥ’s idol shop, Nimrod’s furnace, Haran’s fatal hesitation, and Avraham’s return to his father, discovering a family story far more complex than the one many of us remember from childhood. Drawing on Ramban, Or HaḤayim, the Shelah, Kedushat Levi, and Maharal, we explore the meaning of celestial influence, free choice, and Hashem’s promise of a future Avraham could not yet see. Why did the man of kindness go to war? How did Teraḥ’s life change? And what does it mean that Hashem raised Avraham above the stars? “Avraham: The Man Who Stepped Beyond the Stars” invites us to reconsider the limits we place on others and ourselves—and learn to live faithfully while the future remains unknown.

“It’s not easy not knowing where you’re going!” Those were the unforgettable words of Rabbi Nosson Tzvi Finkel, the legendary Rosh Yeshiva of Mir, as he reflected upon HaShem’s command to Avraham Avinu: “Lech Lecha — Go forth from your land, your birthplace, and your father’s house, to the land that I will show you.” But why didn’t HaShem simply tell Avraham where he was going? Why ask him to leave everything familiar without revealing his destination? And isn’t that the story of our own lives? We make plans, set goals, and imagine what tomorrow will bring, yet none of us truly knows where life’s journey will lead. InMonday morning’s Breakfast and a Class, we explore the Or HaḤayim’s remarkable insights into Avraham’s three departures, the Midrash’s description of a nisayon betoch nisayon—a test within a test—and the extraordinary faith required to take the first step when the road ahead remains hidden.  Along the way, we encounter two remarkable stories from the Gemara. Rabbi Yosef returns from a glimpse of the World to Come declaring, “Olam hafukh ra’iti — I saw an upside-down world!” His father responds, “Olam barur ra’ita — You saw a world of clarity.” And Rabbi Elazar ben Pedat, suffering in terrible poverty, asks HaShem why his life must be so difficult, only to discover how little we understand of the greater picture. Together, these stories reveal a profound lesson: Sometimes HaShem is not simply leading us to a different destination; He is teaching us to see life through different eyes. Avraham did not know where the road would lead, but he knew Who was leading him. Join us for amoving exploration of emunah, bitahon, the mysteries of Divine Providence, andthe courage to keep walking even when we cannot see what lies ahead.

🌈 THE RAINBOW — WHEN HEAVEN PUT DOWN ITS BOW Parashat Noaḥ  We see a rainbow and marvel at its beauty. But the Torah tells us that thismagnificent display of colors is actually a reminder of the destruction of theworld—and Hashem’s promise never again to bring a flood that destroys allhumanity. Why did Hashem choose a rainbow, a bow traditionally associated with warfare, as His eternal symbol of peace? And why does the Gemara tell us that during the lifetime of Rabbi Shimon bar Yoḥai, no rainbow ever appeared? Could it be that the greatest blessings are not always the miracles we witness, but the disasters that never happen, the storms that never arrive, and the rainbows we never need?  In this morning’s Breakfast & Class, we explore the Ramban’s beautiful explanation of the rainbow as a weapon turned away in peace, the extraordinary merit of Rabbi Shimon bar Yoḥai, and the mystical significance of the rainbow’s three principal colors, representing Avraham, Yitzḥak, and Yaakov. We discover why unity does not require uniformity, how different personalities and strengths can come together to create something magnificent, and why the greatest expression of righteousness may be the protection and blessing we bring into other people’s lives. Sometimes Hashem sends a rainbow into the clouds, and sometimes He sends a person into our lives. The challenge is to become that person for someone else.

THE LIGHT BEYOND THE LIGHT — THE SECRET OF SHABBAT CANDLES  Whydo we light two small Shabbat candles when our dining rooms are alreadybrilliantly illuminated by chandeliers and electric lights? What are thoselittle flames actually illuminating? In this morning’s Breakfast and a Class,we began with this simple question and discovered an extraordinary world hiddenwithin one of our most familiar mitzvot. Drawing upon the Gemara, the Ben IshHai, the Zohar, and the teachings of the Arizal, we explored the deeper meaningof the two candles, Zachorand Shamor,the relationship between husband and wife, and the mysterious Sukkat Shalom—thecanopy of Divine peace that descends upon the Jewish home as Shabbat begins. Wealso examined the fascinating Kabbalistic connection between the candles, theDivine Name Shaddai, and the transformation of judgment into mercy.  Butperhaps the most moving part of our journey came through the Shelah HaKadoshand the story of Hannah, whose heartfelt prayers brought Shemuel HaNavi intothe world. Why does the Shelah connect Hannah’s prayer with the moment a motherlights her Shabbat candles? And how can two flames that burn for only a fewhours continue illuminating a family for generations? Along the way, we alsoaddressed a practical halachic question: What happens when we light candles andleave for Shabbat dinner elsewhere, returning only after the candles haveburned out? Join us as we discover that the chandelier allows us to see everything in the room, butthe Shabbat candles remind us of everything that truly matters in the room.Shabbat Shalom!

Three Lives, Two Storms, and One Extraordinary Second Chance  Thursday Morning Breakfast & Class | October 15, 2026  What if the stories of Noaḥ and the Flood, Yonah HaNavi and the great fish, andPharaoh, the king of Egypt, were not three separate stories at all? What if thesame souls returned across generations, each given another opportunity tocorrect the mistakes of the past? In this morning’s fascinating Breakfast &Class, based on the teachings of Rabbi Pinḥas Friedman and the great mekubalim, we uncover extraordinary connections hidden within these familiar biblical narratives. Why was the righteous Noaḥ originally included in the decree of destruction? Why does the prophet Yeshayahu call the Flood “Mei Noaḥ”—thewaters of Noaḥ? What is the connection between Noaḥ and Yonah, and why do the words of the ship’s captain, “Mah lecha nirdam?”—Why are you sleeping?—sound so familiar from our forty days of Selichot? Even the dove sent from the ark and the great fish that swallowed Yonah reveal remarkable secrets about the journey of the neshamah and the possibility of spiritual rebirth.  But perhaps the most astonishing revelation concerns Pharaoh himself. According to a remarkable Midrash, the Pharaoh who refused to listen to Moshe Rabbenu was given another opportunity to repent as the king of Nineveh—and this time, he listened! How do these extraordinary journeys intersect, and what do they teach us about gilgul neshamot, tikkun, and Hashem’s infinite patience? From the twelve months Noaḥ spent caring for the animals in the ark, to Yonah’s three days inside the fish, to a once-arrogant king humbling himself in sackcloth and ashes, we discover a profound message of hope: Our mistakes need not become our final chapter. Hashem gives us opportunities to repair what we have damaged, to accomplish what we have neglected, and to become what we were meant to be. We may not remember what our neshamah came into this world to correct, but we can be certain that Hashem has given us today for a reason.

Why Hashem Asked Noaḥ to Build an Ark Instead of Simply Saving Him  When the world around Noaḥ was collapsing into corruption, violence, and moralchaos, Hashem did something extraordinary. He gave Noaḥ a constructionproject—complete with precise measurements, compartments, three levels, and asource of light. But why would the Creator of the universe, who could havesaved Noaḥ with a single word, require him to spend years building an enormouswooden vessel? In this week’s Shabbat class, we explore the remarkableMidrashim and teachings of our Sages, the Zohar, and the Ba’al Shem Tov todiscover that the Ark was far more than a means of survival. It was a blueprintfor rebuilding a world through self-control, responsibility, kindness, and theextraordinary power of human speech. We discover how the Teivahbecomes a symbol of the words we speak, how those words can create shalom,and how even in moments of tzarah—distress—we can find a tzohar, a source of light. But perhaps the most powerful lesson comes after the Flood, when Hashem commands Noaḥ to leave the very Ark that had protected him. Through the fascinating contrast between Noaḥ and Abraham, and the teachings of the Sefat Emet on Shabbat and the festivals, we discover that preserving our values is only the beginning.Ultimately, we must carry those values beyond the safety of our homes,synagogues, and communities and bring their light into the world. Join us forthis 45-minute journey through Parashat Noaḥ, as we explore a message thatspeaks directly to the challenges of our own generation: Hashem did not ask Noaḥ to stop the rain. He asked him to build an Ark. And when the rain stopped, He asked him to leave that Ark and begin building a world.

The Ark We Build Before the Rain  “I wanted to sit in the corner and let other people run the synagogue. Somehow, I was becoming my father.” In Monday morning’s Breakfast & Class, marking thesecond day of Rosh Hodesh Heshvan, we explore how the example we witness aschildren can become the responsibility we accept as adults. Through the ZeraShimshon’s explanation of why Noach’s children were saved, Rabbi Abittan’smemorable teaching about what children see at home, and personal recollections of a father devoted to his community, we consider the lasting influence of the lives we live.  But example is only the beginning. Drawing on the Sefer HaHinukh and practicallessons heard from Rabbi Paysach Krohn, we discover how inviting children toparticipate—in giving, helping, and serving—can help shape their hearts. As theholidays give way to ordinary days, this class asks a question for parents,grandparents, and all of us: What are we teaching through our actions, and whoare we inviting to work alongside us?

FROM SEVEN TO EIGHT  Rosh Hodesh Cheshvan — A New Beginning  Sunday Morning’s Breakfast & Class  We have just completed an extraordinary month of spiritual elevation. From theshofar of Rosh Hashanah to the forgiveness of Yom Kippur, the embrace of theSukkah, and the joy of Simhat Torah, Tishrei surrounded us with opportunitiesto draw closer to Hashem. But now comes Cheshvan, a month without a singleholiday. Is something missing, or is Hashem inviting us to discover somethinggreater? In this morning’s special Rosh Hodesh Breakfast & Class, weexplore the fascinating teachings of the Bnei Yissaschar, the mystical tzirufof Hashem’s Name associated with Cheshvan, and its remarkable connection toYishak Avinu and the number eight. Seven represents the natural world Hashemhas given us. Eight represents our ability—and responsibility—to elevate thatworld beyond what nature alone provides. Perhaps Cheshvan has no holidaysbecause this is the month when Hashem asks us to create the holinessourselves.  This week’s Parashat Noach brings that message to life. The Flood began in Cheshvan, and a year later, Noach emerged from the Ark into a world waiting to be rebuilt. The parashah ultimately leads us to Avraham Avinu, who teaches humanity that our purpose is not merely to inhabit the world Hashem created, but to make it better. Along the way, we discover the beautiful connection between Cheshvan, the sweetness of honey, the eighth day of Berit Milah, and the commitments we made during the HighHolidays. What happens to all those promises once ordinary life resumes? How do we transform Mar Cheshvan, the seemingly bitter month, into something sweet? The real measure of Tishrei is not how inspired we felt during the holidays, but what we build from that inspiration afterward. Join us for a journey from seven to eight, from Noach to Avraham, and from inspiration to lasting transformation.

UNITY WITHOUT UNIFORMITY     There is a question in this week’s parashah that belongsat every family’s Shabbat table.     According to one teaching of our Sages, Adam and Ḥavawere originally created joined together. Hashem then separated them into twoindividuals.     But why?     If He wanted them separate, why create them together? Andif He wanted them together, why separate them?     Let me share a little parable that can help us thinkabout the answer.     Imagine a couple who have been married for fifty years.Every morning, the husband prepares breakfast. He takes a fresh roll, cuts it,and places the soft middle portion on his wife’s plate. He keeps the crusty endfor himself.     For fifty years, that is their routine.     On their anniversary, as he prepares breakfast, his wifesays gently, “Can I ask you something?”     “Of course.”     “Today, would you mind giving me the crusty end?”     He looks at her in surprise.     “The crusty end? You want that?”     “Yes,” she says. “It has always been my favorite part.”     “Your favorite part? But the soft middle is the bestpart! I have been giving it to you all these years because I wanted you to havethe best.”     She smiles.     “And I never said anything because I thought you lovedthe crust. I didn’t want to take away the part you enjoyed.”     For fifty years, each had been trying to be kind. Eachhad been willing to sacrifice. But neither had asked the other a simplequestion:     “Which part do you like?”     That is the whole parable. But there is a great dealinside it.     Sometimes we love people according to our ownpreferences. We give them what we would want. We comfort them with the wordsthat would comfort us. We plan the evening that we would enjoy.     Our intentions may be wonderful. But the person we loveis a different person.     One wants advice; another wants us to listen. One enjoysa surprise; another wants to know the plan. One needs company after a difficultday; another needs a few quiet minutes.     We cannot discover those things by assuming. We have toask, and then listen to the answer.     Perhaps this helps us understand the creation of Adam andḤava.     Their original unity teaches us connection. The otherperson matters to us. Their happiness, their pain, and their needs belongwithin our concern.     Their separation teaches us that the other person has alife and a perspective of their own.     The Torah calls Ḥava an ezer kenegdo—a helpercorresponding to Adam, standing opposite him.     Someone standing opposite us can see what we cannot see.They can bring something to our lives that we do not already possess.     But that requires humility. We have to make room for ananswer we did not expect—even something as simple as, “Actually, I like thecrust.”     Rabbi Abittan, alav hashalom, often taught us that theTorah trains us in self-control. That lesson belongs especially in our homes.     Sometimes self-control means holding back a sharp reply.Sometimes it means allowing someone to finish speaking. And sometimes it meansresisting the urge to say, “I know what you want,” long enough to ask what theyactually want.     Love needs generosity. It also needs attention.     So here is a question to bring to the table tonight:     When we try to make someone happy, how do we know whatwill make them happy?     Let the children answer too. Ask them for an example ofsomething they enjoy that another person in the family does not. We may learnsomething.     And perhaps ask a second question:     What is one small thing we could do this week thatsomeone in our family would appreciate?     Hashem gave Adam and Ḥava a shared beginning. He leftthem the work of building a shared life.     We carry on that work through patience, kindness, and thewillingness to discover the person beside us.     Sometimes, after fifty years, that discovery begins witha piece of bread.     Shabbat Shalom.

BEFORE THE FIRST MITZVAH — Why the Torah Begins with People  If the Torah is our book of mitzvot, why does it begin with stories? The firstRashi explains why we need the account of creation—but why not then jumpstraight to “Haḥodesh hazeh lakhem,” the first commandment given to the Jewish people as a nation? In Wednesday morning’s Breakfast & Class, we explore a beautiful question and insight shared by Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky in our conversation Tuesday night: perhaps understanding Who created the world is only the beginning. We also need to learn how to live in it.  Through the lives of Avraham, Yitzḥak, and Yaakov, we discover why Bereshit is called Sefer HaYashar—the Book of the Upright. Avraham pleads for Sedom, Yitzḥak makes room for peace, and Yaakov works honestly for a dishonest employer. Their stories bring the lesson into our own homes, businesses, and relationships: devotion to Hashem must shape how we treat people, especially when honesty, compassion, and restraint are difficult.

In our Tuesday morning Safra Class, three years after October 7, we stepback from the individual headlines and ask a larger question: What happenswhen we stop looking at each event separately and begin looking at the pattern?From the extraordinary turns in Israel’s war to Rav Yosef Zvi Rimon’s idea ofthe “Divine puzzle,” we explore a world in which every individual event mayhave a perfectly reasonable natural explanation—and yet, when the pieces areplaced beside one another, we are left asking: Who is holding the string?  But Bereishit reminds us that Hashem created man be-tzelem Elokim,with genuine beḥirah,and therefore history can never be a simple story of puppets and miracles.Drawing on the Rambam, the story of Kayin, Rabbi Asher Abittan’s unforgettableteaching of the “50/50 world,” and the contrasting responses of Yitroand Amalek, we ask how Divine Providence and human freedom can existtogether—and why two people can witness the same events and see completelydifferent realities. Ultimately, the question is not only whether we canrecognize Hashem in the story, but whether, after everything we have livedthrough, we can recognize one another again.

This morning atBreakfast & Class, we went back to the very beginning—to the first twoverses of the Torah. God creates heaven and earth, and yet almost immediatelywe encounter tohu vavohu:chaos and emptiness, darkness and an unfathomable abyss. Why would a perfectCreator begin His world this way? Our Sages reveal something remarkable: hiddenwithin these words is not only the story of Creation, but the entire story ofJewish history—our exiles, our darkness, and ultimately our redemption.  BERESHIT — THE LIGHT HIDDEN IN THEDARKNESS explores thesparks of holiness concealed within a broken world, the astonishing secrethidden in the word meraḥefet,and the Midrash’s teaching that even while darkness covers the abyss, thespirit of Mashiaḥ is already hovering above it. Perhaps Bereshit is teaching usone of life’s most important lessons: darkness does not mean that God hasdisappeared. Sometimes the light is already there, waiting for us to uncoverit—one mitzvah, one act of ḥesed, one page of Torah, and one spark at a time.